(This is a sidebar to “Charlie and Faith Russell Share Their COVID-19 Journey”)
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By Chris Moon
Rusty Russell remembers the moment clearly.
His family had been waiting for days for his son, Charlie, finally to be weaned off all the medical equipment that had been keeping him alive for nearly two months. One of the last pieces was the tracheostomy tube that was making it impossible for Charlie to talk.
That “trach” had literally been a lifesaver.
And when it was finally gone, the change was audible.
“I walked in to see him early in the morning, and he said, ‘Hi, Dad.’”
It was the first time he’d heard his son talk for weeks. Rusty recalled the weakness in Charlie’s voice after his son’s long battle with complications from COVID-19.
Many times, doctors and nurses had told the family Charlie’s situation was dire—that he might not survive.
But that hospital greeting told a new story.
“I said, ‘Charlie, you can talk,’” Rusty said. “That was the moment for me. . . . It was such a milestone that he was truly on the road to recovery. He had been through seven weeks of horror, ups and downs and ups and downs. And finally, he was moving in a positive direction.
“I just think God’s grace was on him.”
‘EVERYBODY WAS PRAYING’
Rusty Russell is lead pastor of New Day Christian Church in Port Charlotte, Fla. He’s also the son of Bob Russell, former senior minister of Louisville’s Southeast Christian Church.
The battle that Rusty’s son, Charlie, fought last fall against complications from COVID-19 captivated many people in Restoration Movement churches around the world. A Facebook page set up by Charlie’s wife, Faith, has grown to 9,700 members. Prayers and support came from all over.
When Charlie was hospitalized in August, Rusty assumed his son would recover quickly. After all, Charlie was young.
But a couple of weeks into his ordeal, Charlie was intubated and put on a ventilator, and he struggled to survive for the next six weeks.
Rusty got the news of the intubation on a Sunday. The next day he was en route to the Tennessee hospital where Charlie was being treated. Things were going so badly for Charlie that Rusty feared his son might pass away while he was flying north.
Rusty calls that day “Black Monday” because of all the difficult news the family received.
“Everybody was praying for him,” Rusty said. “That day was so awful.”
He remembered learning the medical steps the doctors were planning to keep Charlie alive. One of them involved a life flight to Nashville’s Centennial Medical Center, where Charlie could get more intensive medical help.
Rusty recalled standing outside his son’s room, looking at him through a window. The nurses were worried Charlie had suffered brain damage because he’d been so low on oxygen.
“All the while, I’m praying and staring at his monitor and praying he would turn a corner,” Rusty said.
Charlie eventually did turn a corner, but it took a very long time with a lot of worrisome moments along the way. Rusty can list them off—collapsed lungs, failing kidneys and dialysis, sepsis, infections.
Rusty remembers sharing this news with his Florida congregation. “He’s just got a lot going on,” he told them.
A FATHER AND PASTOR
The people of New Day continued to pray, and Rusty continued to preach.
His routine during those weeks was to fly to Tennessee each Monday morning and be part of a crew of family members who would alternate spending time with Charlie in the hospital and helping at home with baby Charity—who was born less than two weeks before Charlie was sedated and put on a ventilator.
Each Thursday, Rusty would return to Florida.
He would do some pastoral work—like meeting with the local high school football team every Friday—and he would work throughout the week on his sermon.
Rusty would preach Saturday night and Sunday morning. On Monday, he would go back to Tennessee.
Someone might ask: Wouldn’t the church have been OK without him during that time? Couldn’t he have just taken a very understandable break from the pastoral grind?
Rusty said that was possible, but it wasn’t what he felt God prompting him to do.
“I felt like I needed to continue doing both,” he said. “I needed to be a husband and a father, but I needed to be a pastor.
“I needed the church, and I needed to model for the church a certain sense of faith and stability and that even in the worst of times, we do our best to keep putting one foot in front of the other.”
A GOSPEL HEARING
Looking back, Rusty is certain he made the right decision.
He knows now that if his son had passed away, he would have needed the support of the church—and he would have been glad he had stayed with them.
Rusty said his father, Bob Russell, took the same approach—keeping his speaking engagements during Charlie’s ordeal.
“Dad would say this is a time for us to believe what we say we believe,” Rusty said.
Both he and his father found their audiences were receptive to their messages during Charlie’s ordeal. The gospel was heard.
“People were hanging on every word we said because of what we were going through,” Rusty said. “The opportunity for impact was like nothing we’d ever experienced. As difficult as it was, we knew God was using the trial to shine a spotlight on his Word.”
And Rusty marvels at the bonding that took place in churches as people prayed for Charlie. Churches outside the Restoration Movement were quick to provide support to Charlie and Faith.
And those within the movement responded like the brotherhood they are, Rusty said.
“I was especially blown away by how many people in the independent Christian church world followed our story,” he said. “It was really amazing.”
Chris Moon is a pastor and writer living in Redstone, Colorado.
That is precisely why we kept going to New Day when we found the church right after Charlie was hospitalized. We knew God was going to do something big through this ordeal. We’ve been led to join and serve there.